


These Bonds We Make

by LessAttitudeMoreAltitude



Series: Bonds [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Deleted Scenes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-04-30 21:40:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude/pseuds/LessAttitudeMoreAltitude
Summary: Deleted Scenes from Season 1 - The four times Kanan comforted Ezra and the one time Hera did (chronological order)





	These Bonds We Make

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brahe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brahe/gifts).



> This is for the Rebels Gift Exchange. The prompt I was given was for parental fluff between Kanan and Ezra and maybe some other parental interactions as well such as Hera and Ezra or Kanan/Hera and Sabine. I'm not very good at writing Sabine, so I focused on Ezra's relationship with Kanan and a little bit with Hera.

**Rise of the Old Masters**

Kanan wasn’t a teacher. He’s never had to be. Even creche duty back at the Temple didn’t really involve _teaching_. All you had to do was make sure the younglings didn’t kill themselves or each other as they explored their abilities.

So even though he had offered to teach Ezra, Kanan quickly came to the realization that he had no idea _how_. He had no experience, no mentors to seek advice from, and only a tenuous understanding of the Force and what it meant to actually _be_ a Jedi. He had no reason - no, he had no _right_ \- to train Ezra. The kid was safe here on the Ghost, with clean clothes, access to regular meals, and people who would take care of him. Kanan convinced himself that that was enough.

Then Ezra flung that ISB agent back, accessing the Force in the desperate act to save Zeb. Kanan watched as the kid looked down at his own hands in fear, and he knew he couldn’t put this off any longer.

So they began to really train. Kanan would be the first to admit his approach could have been best described as ‘winging it’. He took the odd collection of lessons he remembered from the Temple and his masters and basically - and literally - threw them at Ezra, hoping some of them would stick.

It wasn't worked, if Ezra almost falling to his death was any indication.

That’s why he jumped at the chance to find and free Luminara. Of course, the prospect of finding another Jedi survivor was motivation enough, but knowing that Ezra could have a Jedi _Master_ as his teacher? That was even better.

Unfortunately, per their usual luck, the mission on Stygeon Prime had been a disaster. Not only had Luminara not even been alive, but they had walked right into a trap and were nearly killed. All at once, Kanan realized that the galaxy had just become much more dangerous for the two of them. How in star’s name was he supposed to teach Ezra _and_ protect him from the likes of the Inquisitor?

Kanan was lost in this quagmire of worry and self-doubt when he found Ezra sitting on the Ghost ramp looking despondent. When Ezra noticed Kanan, he immediately looked away and hunched his shoulders. “Look, don’t bother saying it. I’m letting you off the hook.”

The resignation in Ezra’s voice caught Kanan off guard. “What are you talking about?”

“I know you wanted to dump me onto Luminara.”

Wait, what?

“Just because she’s dead doesn’t mean you’re _stuck_ with me!”

“I don’t want to _dump_ you!” By all the stars, Ezra had _completely_ misunderstood his intentions. Then again, it wasn't like Kanan had explained that he was a half-baked padawan who was wholly unqualified to teach anyone. He sat down next to the kid with a tired sigh. “I just wanted you to have the best teacher…”

“Well, I don’t _want_ the best teacher! I want _you!_ ”

The admission had been a shock to Kanan, not only because of the sheer vehemence in Ezra’s voice, but the edge of desperation to it. Ezra wanted Kanan, _specifically_ Kanan, to be his teacher. The declaration was exactly what Kanan needed to finally kick himself into gear and be the mentor that Ezra deserved. The stakes had been raised, and Kanan would rise up to meet them.

He spent days meditating and pouring over the content in his holocron. It’s contents were extensive, giving Kanan plenty to work off of. There were even a few teaching modules recorded by various Jedi from the Temple, like Master Billaba and Anakin Skywalker. It was just too bad they didn’t also have tutorials on _how_ to teach.

Once he had a good idea on how to proceed, Kanan designed a more structured regiment and imposed a strict training schedule. Meanwhile, he was trying his best to reassure Ezra that he wasn’t going to be kicked off the Ghost. Not at anytime, not for any reason. This was not a trivial task. Kanan didn’t know any details, but he suspected that it had been a long time since anyone had given a damn about the kid. As such, Ezra was having trouble understanding or accepting when someone was being affectionate. Years of living on the streets had made him both suspicious of everyone’s motives and reluctant to show any sort of weakness.

A week had passed since the mission at the Spire. Ezra practically collapsed onto the empty crate, breathing heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “Man… you weren’t kidding when you said you had a new regiment.”

Kanan huffed. It could have been a laugh, but it was more just an exhalation of tension. “The galaxy’s not exactly safe for Jedi right now. Hasn’t been for nearly fifteen years. I have to make sure you’re ready.”

Ezra gave a humorless chuckle. “If only I made it easier for you, right?”

Kanan frowned. “What do you mean?”

Ezra sighed, avoiding Kanan’s gaze. “I know I’m… difficult to teach. I’m a dumb, undisciplined street-rat.” He plastered on a disarming smile. “If only I was a more ideal apprentice, right?”

“You’re not dumb, Ezra. Your lack of discipline might be a barrier, but it’s not just you. It’s difficult for _me_ to teach. Period.” Kanan sighed, looking down at his lightsaber thoughtfully as he considered his next words. He should just come out and say it. Prove to Ezra once and for all that he’s not the only one struggling here. “I never completed my own training. Far from it, actually.” He let out a small laugh. “You’re in good company, Padawan.”

Ezra glanced up disbelievingly at Kanan before averting his eyes again. “If you say so… Master.”

Kanan frowned. This wasn’t right. He wanted to comfort the kid, but it didn’t seem to be working. Did he not believe Kanan? Did he think Kanan was just making this up to make him feel better? “Seriously, kid. It’s why I was reluctant to teach you in the first place.”

Ezra rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. “I just…” He scowled as he struggled to find the right words. “I can get better. I _will_ get better. I’ll show you that it wasn’t a mistake. T-Training me, I mean.”

“Hey, you have nothing to worry about.” He reached over a placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, disliking the fear and doubt he could sense radiation from his student. “You’re a quick learner, Ezra. Even now, I’m impressed with how far you’ve progressed.” It also scared him a little, but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud.

Hope started to leech into Ezra’s skepticism. “Really?”

Kanan smiled, relieved to see Ezra’s tension melting away. “Really.” He gave the kid’s shoulder a small pat before gently nudging him back toward the Ghost. “Now go wash up before dinner. And for once, _please_ leave enough hot water for me.”

“Hey, it’s not _my_ fault the Ghost’s boiler can only handle an hour’s worth of water.”

Kanan rolled his eyes. “My point is that maybe you could take a _shorter_ shower…”

A mischievous smirk broke out across Ezra’s face. “No can do, Master."

* * *

**Gathering Forces**

Ezra gazed at the glowing image of his mother, father, and twerpy little self. It was bittersweet. Looking at them now, he realized he had almost forgotten what his parents looked like. It had been so long and he had been so young… but this image brought up old memories and made them just a little bit brighter.

He didn’t remember this particular moment or who could have taken this holo, but he remembered this day. His parents had taken work off, noting the unseasonably warm weather. They spent the entire day at the local park. There had been other families there as well, the children crawling all over the various installations. His father held him while he pretended to climb across the horizontal bars. His mother bought them lothwolf cakes: dense fried dough filled with jogan-flavored cream.

It was a pleasant memory. One of the few he still had. Unfortunately, thinking back on that warm day did nothing to banish the chill that had sunk into his very bones.

It wasn’t natural, this cold. Ezra was certain of that. It was a little better now, like the frozen parts of his organs were slowly starting to thaw, but it felt like they were thawing _wrong_. Like everything was just slightly out of place.

Kanan said it was because he had exposed himself to the Dark Side. Ezra honestly didn’t remember much. He remembered the Inquisitor stalking towards him menacingly as he laid out Ezra’s worst fears. The Pau’an’s words, paired with the sight of Kanan’s prone body, pushed his rising fear over the edge. It transformed into rage and a desperate feeling of _nononono_ … before he regained consciousness in Kanan’s arms, weak as a lothkitten and feeling like his insides had been frozen solid.

He wrapped his arms tighter around himself. It didn’t help. This cold feeling had nothing to do with his environment. Still, that didn’t stop him. Maybe he could cast away the feeling of _wrongness_ if he could only just squeeze it out of himself.

The sound of footsteps pulled him out of his thoughts. A brief sweep with the Force immediately told him that it was Kanan. Ezra looked back and saw his master standing there with two mugs steaming with some sort of hot beverage. “I thought you said I was too young for caf,” Ezra joked humorlessly.

“This isn’t caf.” Kanan stepped up beside the gunner’s seat, offering him one of the mugs. “It’s tea.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t pegged Kanan as a tea drinker. He took the mug, and he was hit with a strong waft of something… spicy? He took another sniff. It was strong, whatever it was. He blew the steam away and took a small experimental sip. It burned slightly, but not from the temperature. It was surprising, but not entirely unpleasant. It pricked at his gums and warmed his throat as it slipped down his esophagus. This tea was strange mix of sweet and spicy with just a hint of something bitter. Ezra looked up and saw Kanan take a large gulp from his own mug as he leaned back against the side of the controls. “I don’t think Hera would appreciate you giving me alcohol.”

Kanan smiled. “It’s not spiked. You’re probably just tasting the cinnamon. Or the black hole pepper.”

Ezra took a larger sip. He liked the way it was warming him up from the inside. He wondered if this _was_ what drinking alcohol felt like. “What is this?”

A brief flash of sadness crossed Kanan’s features. He took another sip. “It’s a tea my master gave me after… after the Third Battle of Mygeeto.”

Ezra’s eyes widened. Kanan _never_ talked about his past. The only reason he knew the name of Kanan’s master was because of the Inquisitor. “The… Third Battle of Mygeeto?” His hesitant question was twofold. He honestly had no idea what that battle referred to, and he really wanted to know more about Kanan.

“Yeah…” Kanan was looking down at his mug as he gently swirled its contents. “It wasn’t my first battle, but it was the first time I had lost control. It was just for a moment, but it left its mark.” He took a deep breath before letting out in a long sigh. “I didn’t feel quite right afterward, and my master…” He lifted his mug. “... she gave me some of this. And it helped, even if only a little.”

Ezra took another gulp of his cooling tea, savoring the complex taste. Kanan was right. It wasn’t much, but it _was_ helping. “Thanks, Kanan.”

They stayed there in the nose gun, enjoying a comfortable silence. Then Ezra realized that the bone-deep cold _was_ beginning to fade… but it wasn’t because of the tea. It tasted good, and it was nice to drink something sweet and warm, but even between sips, there was something else going on. It was like a heated blanket was slowly wrapping around him. It wasn’t just drawing the cold out; it was slowly correcting the _wrongness_ that had infected him as well. Like it was pushing pieces of a puzzle back into place.

He looked back at Kanan, about to ask about it, when he saw the older man had his eyes closed. His expression was relaxed, and his breathes were long and deep. Was… was he meditating?

Kanan suddenly gave a small smile, keeping his eyes closed. “It’s okay, Ezra. It’s just me.”

Then it clicked. Kanan was _fixing_ him. Somehow, through the Force, his master was setting right what had gone wrong at Fort Anaxes. His presence was slowly imbuing Ezra with strength, calming the ugly fear and anger from earlier. 

Ezra looked back at the picture of his parents and smiled sadly. He wished his parents could have met Kanan. They would have liked him.

* * *

**Path of the Jedi**

There was a pressure in Kanan’s mind that was keeping him up. He didn’t notice it at first: didn’t realize it was the reason he couldn’t fall asleep. It was only when it became heavier, more insistent, that he realized something other than his normal insomnia was at work. By the time he realized it was foreign in nature, it was edging on painful.

“Ezra,” he mumbled, finally deducing that he was sensing his padawan over their fledgling bond. He sat up from his bunk with a frown, trying to decipher what he was sensing. As excited as Ezra had been to get started on his very own lightsaber, Kanan knew that the Jedi Temple had taken its toll.

The Gathering was, by its nature, an incredibly personal experience. There was an unspoken rule that you did not press another Jedi about their experiences at Ilum unless they brought it up themselves. Kanan never actually participated in a traditional Gathering. By the time he passed his Initiate Trials, Master Huyang had not yet been repaired (or, for that matter, what was left of the _Crucible_ ). So when Master Billaba took him on as her padawan, she had taken it upon herself to take him to a Jedi outpost on her homeworld of Chalacta. There, they entered the small Jedi temple together. Until she explained that he had to complete the trial on his own.

It had been… a disturbing experience to say the least. It had divined fears he didn’t even know he had and threw them at his face. It was only his training that allowed him to recognize what he was seeing as the illusions they were. And it was only when he accepted his fears that he found his crystal and was able to leave.

At the time, Caleb had hidden how much the trial had affected him. He didn’t want his master to think he was too weak or young to be apprenticed (faint echoes of those damned illusions). Thinking back on it now, Kanan realized these insecurities had been unfounded. She would not have thought him weak just because he had been frightened. Hell, that had practically been the point.

From what little he could sense through their bond, Ezra was also struggling to move past his temple trial.

Kanan probed the Force for his padawan’s location. He wasn’t asleep; that was for sure. And he didn’t seem to be in his own cabin with Zeb.

Ah. He was in the nose gun. His go-to place for stargazing on sleepless nights. Kanan was starting to recognize Ezra’s tells. This was one of them. When he wanted some time for himself to think, he would retreat to the nose gun. However, it was also where he went when he felt unsafe or insecure.

So Kanan got up with a sigh. He would check up on Ezra, offer a shoulder to lean on if he needed it. If Ezra just wanted to be left alone, that was fine. As long he knew that he didn’t have to face his fears on his own. Not anymore.

As he got closer, he sensed a small spike of apprehension from Ezra, followed by relief. The kid knew his master was walking his way. Even so, Ezra didn’t turn around when Kanan stepped up behind him. Placing a hand on the edge of the gunner’s seat near the kid’s shoulder, Kanan leaned down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asked softly.

Ezra shook his head, still not looking at him.

“... Do you want to talk about it?”

His only reply was to hunch up his shoulders slightly, which Kanan took as a _no_. He accepted that but didn’t want to leave quite yet. He stayed by Ezra’s side, watching the stars as they slowly passed the viewport. They were currently in high orbit around a small uninhabited moon. Hera didn’t like sleeping while in hyperspace, and staying in orbit was more fuel efficient than landing and having to take off again. The silence between the two Jedi was peaceful and comfortable.

Then sleep began to pull at Kanan. “Alright, kid. I’m headed back to bed. You should - ”

He was cut off as Ezra suddenly reached back and grabbed his wrist. He still wasn’t looking at him, his gaze fixed on Kanan’s arm with a mixture of fear, apprehension, and shame. “Please…” he said. “Please stay.”

“Okay.” Kanan patted Ezra’s wrist. “Okay, I can stay.”

Ezra relaxed minutely at that. “Thanks," he mumbled before sitting back in the gunner’s seat.

Kanan stepped up beside him, leaning against the side of the seat. “I know the Temple Trials can be… a lot. But they’re over now. Whatever you saw in there, it wasn’t real.”

“I know,” he replied quietly.

Kanan watched as Ezra crossed his arms across his chest. Another one of his tells, usually indicating that Ezra was upset or insecure about something. Kanan placed a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be upset.”

Ezra’s shoulders relaxed further, like a balloon slowly deflating. “I know it wasn’t real,” he repeated. “But I just can’t help but feel that it could _become_ real.” He let out a defeated sigh. “I don’t want to lose you.”

It was a painful admission on Ezra’s part. It had Kanan shifting so he could place his arm around Ezra’s shoulders. As much as he wanted to, Kanan couldn't promise Ezra that that would never happen. The future was uncertain, and there were no guarantees. “I’m right here, Ezra,” he said instead. “And I have no intention of going anywhere. Not anytime soon.”

Ezra nodded and leaned into the half embrace that Kanan offered. “I know.”

Kanan gave Ezra a quick squeeze. It struck him how natural it felt to be giving Ezra this reassurance. How easy it was to comfort him. Ezra has grown so much in just these last few months, as both a Jedi and as a person. Kanan couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride for the boy tucked into his side.

For a brief moment, he wondered if this is what it felt like to be a father.

* * *

**Vision of Hope**

Hera sighed as she sat down on the Ghost’s ramp. “You know, I wanted to believe in Trayvis as much as you did.”

Ezra sat down next to her. “Yeah. What's wrong with us?”

“We have hope: hope that things can get better.” She turned to Ezra gave him an encouraging smile. “And they will.”

The boy smiled back, but it wasn’t long before it faded. He seemed pensive as his attention turned inward. Hera could hardly blame him. It had been a disappointing day, to say the least. She imagined that went doubly so for Ezra, who had been absolutely convinced that Trayvis was on their side because of his vision. And of course, the senator’s cruel stab at Ezra’s parents had made it all the more worse.

For a moment, Hera considered telling Ezra what Tseebo had told her. That there was a chance his parents were still alive. Maybe it would lighten his mood. But then she thought better of it. They had almost no idea  _where_ his parents might be, and didn't want Ezra to become obsessed with finding them when there might very well be nothing _to_ find.

No. She would wait until they had something more substantial.

Ezra sighed. “Sometimes I feel like nothing is going right for us. Luminara was a trap, that Inquisitor is hunting us, Trayvis is a traitor… For once, I’d like for something to go _our_ way.”

Hera didn’t like the the despondent look Ezra had as he gazed out across the vast Lothalian plains. She placed a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, hoping to comfort him, but almost immediately pulled her hand away when Ezra flinched at the sudden contact. “I’m sorry, I should have asked first…”

“N-No, it’s okay…” Ezra said, his cheeks turning red. “It’s just…” He snapped his jaw shut, looking really uncertain. Finally, he closed his eyes and sighed. “You just surprised me is all.” The color in his face deepened. “I-I don’t mind.”

Curled up as he was, Ezra looked much younger than his actual fifteen. If his posture and expression were anything to go by, he was embarrassed and uncertain. It had Hera wondering when the last time someone had held the boy. She knew Kanan was physically affectionate with him with casual shoulder touches and pats, the occasional hair tussle… but what about an actual hug? Was the last hug he ever got from his parents? Had it really been over eight years?

It was an unpleasant thought that Hera immediately wanted to dispel. She wrapped an arm around Ezra’s back, placing her hand on his far shoulder. Ezra minutely leaning against her side, and she couldn’t help but smile to herself. “Feel free to push me away when you like.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he slowly relaxed against her side. As the tension slowly bled out of his body, he leaned more heavily against her and eventually had his head resting on her shoulder.

When Ezra spoke again, it was a quiet murmur. “I… I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you guys. For taking me in.”

Hera gave him a brief squeeze, resting a cheek on the top of his head. “One of the best decisions we ever made.”

They sat comfortably together, watching the night sky as they let the day’s events fade into memory.

* * *

**Fire Across the Galaxy**

“Where were you born?”

“Lothal,” Ezra snapped. “Can we stop it with the interrogation already?” He was grateful for the bacta-soaked bandage now cooling the burning pain on his cheek, but he really didn’t need to be answering these asinine questions right now.

“You are likely suffering from a grade three concussion,” the two-onebee droid droned. “I am testing your memory. What year is it?”

“Fifteen YOE,” he growled through gritted teeth. Yes, he hit his head when he fell. Yes, he fell unconscious for a moment. Yes, his head felt like it was splitting open and the world kept tilting and flashing in ways that probably weren’t normal. None of that changed the fact that Ezra needed to leave. “Can I please go see Kanan now?”

“Give me a minute to prepare the neural knitter.” The droid turned to a nearby cabinet. “Five minutes with the knitter at eighty percent power should repair most of the damage to your cerebral tissue. However, you will be required to stay in the medbay for at least twenty-four hours for observation.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He could sit still for five minutes if it meant he could go to Kanan afterward.

Zeb, who had been watching from the corner of the room, stepped up and placed a large paw on Ezra’s back. “You need to take it easy, kit. Concussions are nothing to mess with.”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Ezra insisted. “Kanan’s the one who was tortured for days! I need to go help him!”

Zeb’s ears flattened. “Nothing you can do now, kid.” He gave his back an affectionate pat. “Kanan’s going to be fine. They’re treatin’ him in the next room over.”

Ezra crossed his arms and looked away as the droid placed the neural knitter on his head. He was _not_ pouting. He was just frustrated that no one seemed to understand.

Five minutes later, Ezra would begrudgingly admit to himself that his headache was basically gone and he wasn’t nearly as nauseous. As the droid gave Ezra one last scan, Sabine walked in with her helmet tucked under her arm. “How you feeling, kid?”

“ _Fine_ ,” Ezra repeated. He looked at the droid. “Am I good now? Can I go see Kanan?”

Sabine rolled her eyes before looking at Zeb. “Has been been like this the whole time?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yeah, Kanan too…”

Ezra whipped his head back to Sabine, which he almost immediately regretted when the room swayed. “Wait, Kanan’s been asking for me?”

“If by ‘asking for’ you mean brushing off medical attention and repeatedly asking how you’re doing… then yes.”

The droid turned back to him. “Your scans came back normal, but I still recommend that - ”

That was enough for Ezra. He jumped off the bed and marched over to the next room, keeping one hand on the wall since the world hadn’t _quite_ stopped tilting back and forth. The next door slid open, and Ezra stopped in the doorway as he regained his bearings.

Kanan was actually wearing a set of medical clothes, laying down in the bed with a blanket draped over his legs. Hera was sitting next to him, holding his hand. From where he stood, Ezra could see dark tendrils scattered all up and down his arms; damage from the electro-torture he had suffered. They both looked in Ezra’s direction when the door opened. Hera looked somewhere between annoyed and amused, and Kanan looked downright relieved. “Hey, kiddo. You’re all patched up?”

“Yup. Good as new.”

Hera walked up to him and lightly placed a steadying hand on his arm, guiding him to the nearest chair. “Sit down, Ezra. I hope you at least waited until the surgical droid gave you the all clear…”

“I did,” Ezra insisted.

She didn’t look entirely convinced but turned to Kanan instead of saying anything. “I’m going to check on the others. I expect both you boys to rest.”

Kanan rolled his eyes. “Will do, _Doctor_ Syndulla.”

Her eyes narrowed into her do-not-challenge-me-I-am-your-captain glare before she left the two of them alone.

Ezra turned back to the bed, slumping in his seat and closing his eyes in relief. Kanan was here. He was alive, and he was safe. With what little concentration he could muster, Ezra focused on channeling his energy to Kanan. Just like Kanan had done for him after Fort Anaxes, and just like he started to do on Tarkin’s star destroyer before they ran into the Inquisitor.

“Hey.” A warm hand on Ezra’s shoulder had him opening his eyes. Kanan was gazing at him with an edge of sadness. “You don’t need to do that,” he reprimanded lightly. “Save your strength, kid.”

“I’m fine,” Ezra said for the umpteenth time. “You need it way more than I do.”

Kanan gave a tired sigh. “Hera’s right. We _both_ just need to rest.”

Ezra didn’t want to stop, and he wouldn’t have if not for the fact that he could feel himself starting to crash. He had only managed to get a few hours of sleep since Kanan had been captured. A seemingly unlimited wellspring of adrenaline had kept him going (and, if he were being completely honest, a stimshot before they got to the Mustafar system). But now it had all run out, leaving him exhausted. So with a single nod, Ezra leaned down with a sigh, resting his forehead against Kanan’s thigh. “But you’re okay… right?” Ezra asked, his voice muffled by the bed.

Kanan gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Yeah, kid. Just some mild neuropathy. Nothing a little bit of rest and drug therapy won’t fix.”

Ezra didn’t know what that meant, but at least Kanan _sounded_ okay. He was here. His Force signature strong and wrapped around him like a heated blanket.

His breathing shuddered as realized just how close he had come to _losing_ this, and a small roiling heat in the pit of his stomach began to stir. The Rebellion came to rescue _Ezra_ , not Kanan. Because of the message he had sent out. A message he would have _never_ sent, never would have found the right words for, if it hadn’t been for Kanan. No, Ahsoka and the rest of the Rebellion had been perfectly content to just _leave_ Kanan to be tortured to death, apparently too stupid to realize that the Rebellion needed him. That _Ezra_ needed him.

“Hey…” Kanan’s hand moved from his shoulder to his back, rubbing small comforting circles. “It’s okay now, Ezra.”

But Ezra shook his head, tears of anger burning his eyes. “No, it’s _not_ ,” he growled, his face still buried in the blanket. “They were just going to leave you. They _would_ have left you if I hadn’t - ” His voice cracked and he stopped.

“Ezra, look at me.”

He wiped his tears off as discreetly as possible before looking up. Kanan’s eyes were slanted in concern, and he looked like he was about to say something then thought better of it. Ezra felt a small pressure on his back as Kanan pulled him closer. “Come here,” he said softly.

Ezra didn’t even think about it as he climbed up onto the bed and practically plastered himself to Kanan’s side. Kanan wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up against his chest. Kanan’s body was warm, and Ezra suddenly realized how cold he was. He nestled into the embrace, trying to ignore the smell of bacta and unfamiliar soap and just focus on Kanan’s presence and reaffirm that Kanan was _right here_.

He didn’t care if he was way too old to be cradled and hugged like a small child waking up from a nightmare. Because Ezra actually _lived_ this nightmare. He almost lost Kanan. The man who had taken him in off the streets, who had trained him, who taught him to think more about just himself, who had completely transformed his life for the better…

Kriff, he was crying again.

Not that Kanan seemed to care. He just held Ezra tighter as he trembled with silent tears. Kanan’s Force presence also seemed to tighten around him, leaching into his muscles and slowly unwinding the tension Ezra had been holding in his body. Paradoxically, this only made the tears come harder as he relaxed in the tight embrace.

“It’s over now,” Kanan whispered into Ezra’s hair, warming his scalp. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Ezra could only nod, not trusting himself to speak. He closed his eyes and listened to the gentle thumping of Kanan’s heartbeat, the slow rising and falling of his chest eventually lulling Ezra to into a peaceful sleep.

Some indeterminate amount of time later, something pulled him awake. It took him a moment to realize that a heavy blanket was being draped over him. Blinking sluggishly, he glanced up to see Kanan's eyes closed. He was asleep, his breathing deep and slow. Then who...?

There was a hand on his head, fingers running soothingly through his hair. "Go back to sleep, love."

Ezra barely managed to nod before closing his eyes and placing his head back on Kanan's chest. Warm and safe, he easily slipped into unconsciousness surrounded by his new family. 


End file.
